


Rose-Colored Boy

by cvmisado



Category: Panic! at the Disco, Young Veins
Genre: M/M, gabe isnt an asshole, he is too cute for his own good, it's a kinda high school au, it's more of a job au though, ryan blushes A LOT, spencer isnt jealous he's just overprotective, there are some f bombs dropped, this is my first fanfiction dont attack me please, yes the title is from that paramore song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 16:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11108115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cvmisado/pseuds/cvmisado
Summary: A boy with messy, dark curls that framed his face perfectly stood right up against a pole. He had soft, small features which were emphasized by his wide, doe saffron eyes. His dark, curly eyelashes matched his mousse locks of hair, which fluttered in the breeze. The tall, thin frame which wrapped his body was defined by the rather small shirt that revealed a strip of smooth-looking pale skin every time he tucked a piece of hair behind his ear.Brendon quickly looked away once he was over the initial shock of the boy’s imminent beauty. He was sure he would have that cardiac arrest right about now. He was totally going to make that boy pay for his hospital bills when he gets sent to the ER for heart related problems.





	Rose-Colored Boy

These were Brendon’s favorite type of days. 

 

It was sunny, but not so much that it felt like his corneas were being burned off. There was a slight breeze that tickled his ears ever so slightly with every stride he took on the cracked sidewalks. He could spot a couple cumulus clouds (he knows that because he payed attention in fifth grade science, he’s not a nerd, shut up Jon) from his peripheral vision. 

 

Even though he loved these types of days, Brendon was totally bummed out. He spotted his big homo crush, ambling the hallways and holding hands with a girl. A girl! The girl was really pretty too, with dark hair and long legs. Of course, senior Gabe Saporta, tall and handsome, would have a gorgeous girl as a girlfriend. Even if he was into guys, he would never even glance at an ex-Mormon sophomore band geek, hell even consider to date him. Brendon really hated himself for even getting his hopes up. 

 

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and kicked a rock as he walked, watching as it skid farther down the sidewalk. Who needed love anyway? Maybe he could run away, to somewhere foreign, like Bolivia. Brendon had two and a half years of Spanish under his belt, it wouldn’t be too hard to get by. Perhaps he could become a lone miner, he read somewhere that there was lots of job opportunities for fellow miners in South America. 

 

Just as he was planning housing regulations, he found himself standing in front of his own house. Finally, he could sulk some more, except with blink-182, five dollar shitty movies from Target, and a tub of rocky road ice cream. He expertly took off his shoes and climbed the stairs very, very quietly, hoping to avoid his mother’s questions of school. 

 

“Uh, Brendon?” A questioning voice erupted through the silent house. So much for his stealthy ninja skills. 

 

Brendon carefully turned his head around and was met with an amused gaze from his mother. “Yes?” he said widening his eyes, hoping to look innocent. 

 

Mrs. Urie was not fooled. She shot him an unimpressed look. “Could you pick up Bentley from school? I have errands to run, and you know how he gets when I take him with me.”

 

Of course, someone had to take his perfectly sculpted plan and ruin it. He deserved to be sad, goddamn it. He loved his brother with all his heart, but seriously, he had to go brood over Gabe in his room alone under four blankets. 

 

“But Mom!” Brendon jutted his lower lip out and whined. Sure, he was the older sibling, but he had the right to whine and bitch too. 

 

“Please? I’ll make you peanut butter chocolate chip cookies?” His mom pleaded. 

 

Brendon perked up, but only slightly. Gabe Saporta and his girlfriend still existed. His mother’s cookies were amazing, though. He reluctantly gave in. 

 

“Okay, fine. He gets out at three, right?” Brendon checked his phone. It was 2:48 PM. 

 

“Yeah, we should get going. I’ll drop you off and you can walk back with Bentley, alright?” 

 

They got into their car, which unfortunately was not a Bentley. It was a purple minivan that looked more like a jellybean than a car and maybe something you’d find at a junkyard. He shrugged and got into the passenger seat. They both sat in silence for the entirety of the car ride and Brendon looked out the window, scarily resembling a sad puppy to people managing to get a glimpse inside the car. 

 

With about eight minutes to spare, he strode to where his brother supposedly got out of school and sat down. At this point, he didn’t care if he was going to get weird looks for sitting on the concrete. Brendon unwrapped his headphones and went to his music, considering some Evanescence when he snapped out of it. He wasn’t  _ that  _ emo, although he felt angsty enough to be. Instead, he hit shuffle, and funnily enough the beginning notes of  _ Crestfallen _ by Smashing Pumpkins began gracing Brendon’s ears. He was honestly going to have a cardiac arrest if his day decided to continue like this. 

 

Brendon glumly waited for the four minutes the song lasted, because he loved the song so much and didn’t have the heart to press skip. As the song finished up, and Third Eye Blind began playing, he looked up from where he sat Indian style. There were a lot of parents and no older siblings, he concluded while observing. Or at least there wasn’t until he turned his head slightly to the left. 

 

A boy with messy, dark curls that framed his face perfectly stood right up against a pole. He had soft, small features which were emphasized by his wide, doe saffron eyes. His dark, curly eyelashes matched his mousse locks of hair, which fluttered in the breeze. The tall, thin frame which wrapped his body was defined by the rather small shirt that revealed a strip of smooth-looking pale skin every time he tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. 

 

Brendon quickly looked away once he was over the initial shock of the boy’s imminent beauty. He was sure he would have that cardiac arrest right about now. He was totally going to make that boy pay for his hospital bills when he gets sent to the ER for heart related problems. 

 

He needed to get a hold of himself. Hadn’t the Gabe situation taught him anything about teen boys? They were cruel, foul creatures that he should not associate with and he would just end up with a broken heart and lots of Celine Dion on repeat. But, they were so hot and cute and Brendon wanted nothing more than to hold hands and make out with them.

 

He was really starting to sound like a 14 year old girl now. 

 

Why was he even thinking about all of this? He only glanced at the boy and was already getting ahead of himself. This boy may be a complete asshole, or worse. He could be straight. 

 

Brendon pointedly looked in the other direction, trying to distract himself from the amber-eyed boy only three feet away. Luckily, it wasn’t very difficult because before he could blink, a whoosh of green passed his vision and his glasses flew off. He felt a heavy weight on his left leg and squinted down to see Bentley attached to it. 

 

“Brendon! Guess what?” Brendon didn’t have a chance to reply before his brother began babbling to him. 

 

“Well, today I was line leader and it was Derek’s birthday so we had chocolate cupcakes! They had blue and yellow sprinkles and they were so good! I wanna try a cupcake with every single color sprinkle on it. Even the gross colors like brown and orange. Do they make black sprinkles? Brendon, you have to find out. Are you listening to me? Brendon, hey, listen to me!”  

 

Brendon was too busy looking for his glasses that were knocked off his nose to listen to his brother’s rambling. This is why he had gotten red frames, so they would be easier to find in dire times like these. 

 

“Yeah, Bent. That’s really cool. Can you help me look for my gla-” He was cut off by a voice that sounded really fucking hot. That wasn’t Bentley’s voice. His brother’s voice was kind of squeaky and high, not deep, calm and smooth like this one. And ew, his brother was not hot, he’s eight for crying out loud, and not to mention, his brother. Brendon ended his inner monologue and looked up in confusion. 

 

“Uh I think these are yours? I saw them fly off your face.” He was met with a slightly amused (but blurry) expression on the honey-eyed boy who Brendon was trying so hard to avoid. And shit. Was  _ that  _ his voice? It was low, yet soft and melodic. How the hell was that even possible?  

 

“Oh, well uh-thanks.” Brendon awkwardly replied, a second too late. He gently plucked the red frames from long, bony fingers and placed them on the bridge of his nose. They were staring at each other for a good couple of seconds until he felt a tug on his wrist, and when he looked down there was an annoyed expression on his little brother’s face. He frowned at his brother. 

 

“C’mon Brenny! We have to find out how many different color sprinkles they make! Can we go to the store?” Bentley stuck out his bottom lip and it began to quiver. 

 

Brendon quickly looked away. He was not immune to his brother’s pout and would probably give in even though he didn’t want to. 

 

He gave a little wave and sent a small grateful smile to the pretty boy, who now had two tiny twin girls attached to his sides giggling at them and some pink on his cheeks. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that the boy was blushing. But, he did and figured that it was the sun hitting his face at a weird angle. Brendon raised an eyebrow at both girls in amusement and began wobbling away with Bentley still attached to his leg. 

 

“Maybe Mom will take us tomorrow. We have to walk back home and the store is in the opposite direction.” Brendon said softly in his I’m-a-good-big-brother voice. At least Bentley was a good distraction from Gabe and his girlfriend. His eight year old brother agreed and Brendon took his ninja turtle backpack from him as he raced off ahead of him. 

 

“Hey! That’s no fair! You totally got a headstart and cheated!” Brendon playfully chastised his brother as he ran towards him, with his green backpack bouncing with every step he took. He caught up to his brother which wasn’t very hard, since Brendon was so used to having to chase his brother. 

 

They continued walking like that and Brendon felt a lot better than he had in awhile. And just like that, he suddenly felt really terrible. He hadn’t been spending much time with his brother for the past couple weeks. 

 

“Do you wanna come to the Smoothie Hut for a couple hours tomorrow? I’ll make you a smoothie if you want.” Brendon grinned at his brother.

 

Bentley seemed a little skeptical. “Will Pete be there?” 

 

He rolled his eyes fondly at his little brother. Pete was his favorite person ever, and also Brendon’s boss. Pete was super cool and was more of a friend than a manager to him, and Brendon was pretty sure the only reason he still has the job is because of Bentley. Pete adored Bentley for some weird reason, and always told Brendon to bring him. 

 

(Seriously Bren, you should totally bring the Bentsters over. I like him way more than you.) 

 

“Yes Bent, Pete will be there. But don’t you wanna go for your awesome, cool, handsome, big brother?” He pouted at Bentley. He snorted and gave him a disbelieving look. Even though his brother was only eight, he totally knew how to pull off the bitchiest look ever. 

 

“No way dummy! Pete’s way cooler than you!” His brother giggled off to the front door while Brendon huffed and followed. 

 

After a long, life threatening decision of choosing what he wanted to eat, Bentley sat snugged into the couch, watching cartoons and slurping on chocolate milk. He took a big bite from his grilled cheese sandwich and turned to Brendon. “You’re  _ almost _ as cool as Pete. I give it a 9 and a half.”  

 

Brendon smirked and said nothing. He patiently waited as Bentley chewed up the last of his sandwich, and pinned him to the couch, letting out a war cry. Bentley screamed. 

 

“You are so getting it for saying that! Let the tickles begin!” Brendon bellowed in his best announcer voice. 

 

Bentley squirmed against the couch and gasped, “Let me go! I’ll sa-” Giggle. “An-nything! I’ll s-say anything!” 

 

Brendon raised an eyebrow. “Anything?”

 

“Y-yes!” Another loud giggle erupted from the younger Urie. 

 

“Say, Brendon is way better than Pete!”

 

“N-never!” Bentley screeched. He began tickling him harder. 

 

“O-okay! Brendon is w-way better than P-Pete!” Brendon dropped his hands and smiled innocently at his brother. 

 

“I can’t believe you made me tell you  _ lies _ !” Bentley brought that bitchy glare out again, that seemed to be only given to his older brother.

 

“I recorded it too!” Brendon held up his phone gleefully and pressed play, his brother staring in horror. 

 

“You big meanie! That’s not fair.” He pouted but still curled into Brendon, securing the blanket around them. 

 

“Mmm warm…” Bentley said through lidded eyelids, one half of him watching cartoons, and the other half trying not to sleep. 

 

Brendon smiled and cuddled his brother. They both continued watching Kim Possible and snuggled. 

 

Mrs. Urie came home two hours later, hands full of groceries, to find her sons sleeping on the couch, with the TV left on. Smiling fondly, she turned the TV off and took Brendon’s glasses off and placed them on the coffee table. She kissed both their heads and went off to put the groceries away, trying to create the least amount of noise possible.

 

***

Brendon awakes from his slumber with a painful crick in his neck. He tries to go and rub it, but his hands run into something. Looking over his shoulder, he finds his brother sleeping and snoring softly. Brendon gently gets up, wanting to find out the time because he had work today. He rubs his eyes and puts on his glasses on, not even noticing that he hadn’t taken them off the night before. 

 

The hands on the clock wave at him, reading 10:07. His shift started at 11, so he had plenty of time to get ready. He laid there, thinking, and Gabe popped into his mind. His tan body, bright white and straight teeth, his purple hoodie, and his girlfriend. Brendon thought of the boy at the elementary school. Brendon’s brain was now a sudden stream of honeycoloredeyes and palecreamyskin. He shook his head, there was no way this boy could be interested in Brendon. He wore geeky red glasses and had stupid big lips and ass. Brendon frowned and went to the kitchen to look for some cereal. His mother was there already making pancakes, and as he looked closer, he could make out chocolate chips in them. Brendon grinned.

 

He smiled at her. “Good morning.” 

 

“Morning, honey. You seemed pretty tired. You were out cold for at least 16 hours. Bentley woke up and then went back to sleep, so you wouldn’t feel lonely when you woke up.” His mother looked partly amused, but mostly worried. 

 

At her words, Brendon began remembering the existence of Gabe Saporta, frowned, and quickly put on a fake smile. 

 

“Just a lot of testing and stuff going on. I’ll be fine.” He grabbed a plate of pancakes and began drowning it in syrup and butter. Brendon happily chomped on his breakfast, with his mother rolling her eyes lovingly. 

 

He expertly scraped his plate clean, making sure to leave zero crumbs, because pancakes were too good to have any crumbs left. And he always felt bad when he didn’t clean his plate properly. Brendon placed his dish in the sink and raced up the stairs to change into his uniform. 

 

Fifteen minutes later, Brendon came racing down the steps, almost running into his brother along the way. 

 

“Morning Brenny!” Bentley happily chirped. “You promised me you’d take me to go see Pete today.”

 

“Morning Bent. I’m leaving right now, you ready?” 

 

“Of course I am! What do you think I’m doing here, waiting by the door, silly?!” Bentley said scandalized, with his tiny hands on his hips. Brendon raised an eyebrow. 

 

“Alright. Let me put my shoes on and then we can go. Does Mom know you’re coming?” 

 

As if on cue, Mrs. Urie called from the kitchen. “Are you sure Pete won’t mind you bringing Bentley? I know he can be a bit of handful at ti-” 

 

“Mom. The only reason I got the job so quick was because of Bentley. Pete  _ adores  _ Bentley. Don’t worry Ma.” 

 

She breathed out a sigh. “If you say so Bren. Have fun Bentley! I would tell Brendon to have fun too, but it’s work and not meant to be fun.”

 

“I’ll take care of Bentley, bye Mom!” Brendon replied rolling his eyes slightly. 

 

“Bye.” Mrs. Urie shut the door and handed him the keys to their purple  ~~eggplant~~ car and Brendon started the car, protesting when Bentley decided that he wanted to sit in the passenger seat. Brendon won, thankfully, and glanced at the clock, it’s numbers reading 10:48 AM. 

 

They sped off (not really, because Brendon doesn’t go above 27 in the local area), after making sure Bentley was buckled in and began listening  to some pop punk station with Brendon singing along loudly and Bentley giggling softly in the back. 

 

Soon after, with just three minutes to spare, they pulled up into the parking lot, with Bentley practically tumbling out as soon as the car stopped. Someone was clearly very eager to see Pete. 

 

The eight year old joined his hands with Brendon’s and without warning, ran off with him still attached to his hands and Brendon thought that he dislocated his trapezium. Thank whoever-the-hell-invented-capri-sun he had locked the van before getting out. 

 

Bentley bounded through the door, screeching, “Pete!” and lunged himself at a 5’6 figure. Brendon groaned and crossed his arms in front of his chest, but was smiling nonetheless as he watched Bentley suffocating his boss. Pete looked like he could die happy. 

 

As he was making his way to the back of the store, he noticed Bentley with his mouth pressed to Pete’s ear, whispering frantically, but Brendon didn’t think too much of it. They were middle school girls, those two. 

 

When Brendon emerged from the back, making his way over to the counter Pete let out a dramatic gasp and turned to him scandalized. Bentley was sporting a smug look. 

 

“I can’t believe you forced little BLey (‘it’s pronounced Bee Lee, Brendon!’) to tell you lies! Just to fuel  _ your _ big fat ego!” Pete huffed and stomped towards the back of the store, probably going to print unicorn coloring sheets. Bentley gave his older brother an innocent smile and tried mimicking Pete’s stomping. Brendon doubted he even knew what ‘ego’ meant. 

 

He fixed his hat, smoothed out apron, and flashed a quick smile at the woman coming up to the counter. 

 

This was going to be a long shift. 

 

***

 

Brendon wanted launch himself into the nearest volcano. 

 

Okay, not really. Maybe something similar, but less painful. 

 

He told this Jon, who seemed a bit distracted with... a blow up monkey? Brendon didn’t want to know. 

 

“That’s nonsense. Volcanoes and smoothies don’t really go together.” Jon scrunched his eyebrows and rubbed his beard, which Brendon’s pretty sure he’s had since he was 4. 

 

A half hour into his shift, Jon decided to show up and help Pete annoy the fuck out of Brendon. Seriously, he was pretty sure they meet up in secret to create foolproof ways to make Brendon want to get his head bitten off by a vulture. And though he wasn’t too happy to admit it, they were doing a hell of a good job. Five minutes ago, Bentley dragged Pete to the back to teach him how to make cool origami birds. Jon was now alone and a lot less bothersome. 

 

Brendon shrugged and turned the radio to the 90’s pop station and winked at Jon. 

 

“It's tearin' up my heart when I'm with you, but when we are apart, I feel it too.” He sang in his low, bass voice and outstretched an arm towards Jon. No better time to practice his special bass voice then at work on his best friend. 

 

“And no matter what I do, I feel the pain, with or without you.” He still continued the deepest his singing voice went. Jon cheeks were now a light pink and Brendon didn’t think too much of it. 

 

“Baby,” he sang in a falsetto now, “I don’t understand.” Brendon switched back to bass.

 

“Just why we can’t b-” Jon’s cheeks were a bit darker now, and Brendon didn’t even know Jon was capable of blushing, and his eyes fixed at the counter. He glanced at where Jon was trying to burn a hole and-- shit. 

 

He was met with a highly amused look on a blue eyed boy with a cherub face. The boy looked like he was holding back a really loud snort. But that wasn’t even the shit-worthy part. 

 

Slightly to the right of the kid who Jon was staring at, was the pretty boy with the soft features and the eyes, and seriously, why did all these bad things always happen to him? 

The boy’s eyes were fixed on Brendon’s stupid big mouth and why was Brendon so dumb? He was probably so freaked out and he would never step foot in this shop again. 

 

Brendon tried fighting the gigantic blush blooming on his cheeks, most likely failing, and gulped.

 

“Uh. Ha, sorry about that, um. What do guys want to uh drink?” He eloquently spoke. Brendon decided to aim his question at the other boy, maybe his blush could tame. But, the boy in the unicorn shirt was staring at the pretty boy and Brendon was practically  _ forced  _ to look at him, okay? 

 

The honey-eyed boy was still staring at Brendon’s lips and was he really that bad at singing? Maybe he should record himself one day. He repeated the question. 

 

“What would you like to have today?” The boy’s eyes jerked up to meet Brendon’s in surprise and began blushing. And perhaps Brendon thought he looked really cute with pink on his cheeks. Perhaps. 

 

Pretty boy (Brendon really needed to stop referring him to that in his head) started fiddling with a small paper in his hand. 

 

“Uh, is that your order?” He asked pointing to the paper dangling from long fingers.

 

The boy shook his head. Brendon would have assumed this boy was mute if he hadn’t spoken when giving him his glasses yesterday. 

 

He straightened his nametag, watching the boy’s eyes following the movement. 

 

“Brendon.” The curly haired boy breathed out, sounding like he was testing the name out. Brendon widened his eyes and quickly recovered, he couldn’t let this boy distract him from his job. 

 

So, instead he looked down at his nametag, which was covered in My Little Pony stickers, and grinned at the boy, ignoring Jon’s giggles. 

 

“Yeah, I’m Brendon. Would you like a smoothie?” 

 

“Um. What do you have?” He was folding the small piece of paper in his hands while keeping his eyes on Brendon’s. 

 

Brendon squinted slightly at the boy in front of him. There was a huge board  _ right _ behind him with everything that they had. 

 

The boy kept his shy, but firm eyes on his however, and Brendon would read all 109 smoothies out for him if it meant more time with him. 

 

He gave a slight chuckle. “Pretty much anything edible I can make into a smoothie.” The unspoken  _ for you _ was hanging on Brendon’s tongue. 

 

“Can you make a uh…mango smoothie?” 

 

He felt a sudden surge of confidence. “Yeah. A good one too, at that.” He winked, fucking winked, at the boy and turned away quickly hiding his flaming cheeks, but not before catching the other boy’s cheeks as well. 

 

Jon was waggling his eyebrows at him from the back (seriously, when did he get there?!) when he went to go get the extra cups. Brendon pointedly glared and marched his way over to the front. He filled the cup a bit more than what is permitted and carefully capped it, because seriously, he can’t have another pair of sneakers smelling like the fresh produce section of a market. 

 

He took a (hopefully) inaudible deep breath and walked up the counter and smiled at the boy. Brendon rang up his order and went to go ask the blue-eyed boy what he wanted, but he seemed to have vanished. He looked through the glass window to see him watching Brendon with hard eyes. He felt his eyes widen, because wow, here Brendon was thinking Bentley had the bitchiest glare ever. Why was he glaring, though? He awkwardly shifted his eyes from the cherub faced boy and thrusted the smoothie at the saffron eyed boy. 

 

The boy didn’t even glance at the smoothie, however. He was staring at Brendon with uncertainty and something else that Brendon couldn’t recognize. 

 

“I like your shirt.” He blurted. It was the boy’s turn to widen his eyes and red was blooming on his cheeks. 

 

Brendon looked down at his purple polo in amusement. “Really?” 

 

Pretty boy mumbled something that sounded a lot like “Fuck it _. _ ” 

 

“No. Look, I’m really bad at romance. All I am is a dork who watches black and white French movies, discusses pretentious novels, and I have a secret love for brown eyes and sunshine smiles.” 

 

“Uh.” Brendon wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. What was he supposed to do with this sudden outburst of information? 

 

The boy closed his eyes tightly and exhaled. 

 

“Just...here.” The boy took Brendon’s hand, placed an oddly folded paper, and curled his fingers around it. 

 

Brendon opened the paper and found himself with girlish handwriting. 

 

_ ryan _

 

_ 702-XXX-XXXX  _

_ call me <3  _

 

He grinned when he saw the heart and looked up, but the pretty bo-  _ Ryan _ \- was already gone. 

 

Bolivia was no longer an option in Brendon’s mind, not when Ryan existed. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this trainwreck!!!!!! comments are very appreciated and i will probably reply to them all! 
> 
> please point out any typos i make bc even though i proofread this, i tend to skip over some. 
> 
>  
> 
> you can talk to me on my tumblr @ cvmisado


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